


Though My Soul May Set In Darkness

by imachar



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imachar/pseuds/imachar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is bored, Leonard McCoy is frustrated and Admiral Pike has a solution that miraculously doesn't break any regulations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though My Soul May Set In Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharpiesgal (TigerLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLily/gifts).



> Beta'd by the wonderful **zauzat**
> 
> NOT part of The Weight of a Man universe

“If I kill him on shore leave and hide the body real well, you think I could get away with it?” The voice is muffled in cloth as Leonard McCoy pulls his shirts over his head in preparation for a post-shift shower, but Chris Pike can hear the pained frustration in every syllable and he lays aside the padd he’s been working on and looks across the breadth of the cabin to his clearly irritated lover. 

“Well, you’re a doctor. Phil always told me if I stepped out of line he had more ways to kill me than he could count.” Chris had never doubted Boyce’s sincerity when he’d made those threats. He’d usually just done something monumentally reckless, frequently breaking half a dozen Fleet regs in the process and the Yorktown’s CMO had managed an impressive line in _intimidating fucker_.

“Why doesn't that surprise me?” The shirts are on the floor now and Chris can’t help but be distracted by the long, lean expanse of naked back that is on display. A week of shore leave on Celes II has left McCoy with a hint of bronze on olive skin that usually goes to sallow after too long in the black and Chris shifts slightly in his chair as the familiar sweet surge of desire skewers down from chest to belly to cock and leaves him just a little too aware that he only has a few more days on the Enterprise before he gets dropped off at Starbase 211. 

McCoy stretches, rolling his shoulders and shaking the fatigue out of tired muscles before he rubs his hands through his hair in renewed frustration. “Still, I can’t imagine you were half as annoying as Jim-fucking-Kirk.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on it.” Chris grins as he levers himself off the couch, just the slightest stiffness in his left leg as he stands. It’s been eighteen months since the Narada, but he’ll never regain all the mobility in his left side and his movement is a little awkward as he wraps himself around McCoy, resting his forehead against thick dark hair and pressing his lips to the warm skin at the nape of his neck as he whispers. “What’d he do this time?”

“Aw, fuck the usual.” McCoy leans back – carefully, they both know that Chris’s frame can’t really bear too much extra weight – and rubs his cheek against the slight burn of late-evening stubble. “He cracked his head playing handball in the null-g gym.”

“The boy needs to get laid, all that nervous energy needs an outlet.” The words are slightly muffled as Chris works his lips over tense shoulder muscles and he can feel the suppressed laughter in the slightly frustrated shrug that accompanies Leo’s response. 

“We just had a week of shore leave. I’m pretty damn sure he got laid every night.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Chris sighs and rubs a hand absently up and down McCoy’s torso, appreciating the soft fuzz of hair on the flat smooth belly, tracing the line of it down to the waistband of McCoy’s uniform pants. He teases there for a moment, one finger dipping under the tight cloth to seek out the damp tip of an already thickened cock. The shiver that greets his exploration makes him smile and repeat the tease as he whispers. “He needs this…” 

Chris can’t quite contain his quiet chuckle as Leo shivers and bites back a half-hearted protest. After a moment the Enterprise’s weary CMO drops his head back so that it’s resting on a broad shoulder and Chris braces himself as he takes a little more of McCoy’s weight. 

“Yeah, well he’s not interested.” The slight edge of sarcastic tension in Leo’s voice indicates that he’s made the offer – perhaps more than once – but even as McCoy utters the words Chris knows they aren’t true. He’s watched Jim Kirk very closely over the last few years and for anyone with even the most rudimentary ability to read other people it’s patently obvious that Captain James T. Kirk is very interested in sex with the Enterprise’s CMO. That he hasn’t acted on that interest is slightly perplexing to Chris, Jim isn’t known for his reticence when it comes to sex, and it takes him a moment to sort through what might be going through the young captain’s head.

“Oh, believe me, he’s interested, he’s just playing coy for some reason.”

Thoughtful now, Chris pulls back and gives McCoy a slight shove to turn him around before drawing him close again, settling into a warm full-bodied embrace, his chin resting on McCoy’s shoulder as he muses, “I can’t imagine he’s holding back because of us, two-thirds of the ‘fleet’s most notorious threesome.” 

“So, what is it then?” McCoy is tracing a light, teasing path up the side of Chris’s neck, his breath warm and damp against the skin and Chris shivers at the sensation even as he continues to think through Jim’s surprising reticence. 

After another moment of contemplation and Chris rolls his eyes as he has a sudden epiphany. “Chain of command – this is a don’t-fuck-in-your-chain-of-command issue.”

McCoy sighs and rubs his hand up the back of Chris’s neck, scratching his fingers lightly through the thick, soft hair at his nape. “You know, you might have something there – he was awful quiet when Nogura was done debriefing him from the end of year performance review.” There’s a pause as the two of them think about that for a moment and then McCoy goes on, “You think the old man said something about Jim fucking around, reminded him about the chain of command regs?”

“Wouldn’t put it past him – Nogura can be a fucking puritan when he wants to be – and I’ll just bet he forgot to mention that it doesn’t apply to CMOs.”

“Hmmm, although you’d think Jim would have figured that fucking Phil for ten years while you guys were on the Yorktown didn’t hurt your career any.”

“I think I need to have a talk with him.” Chris releases McCoy and settles himself back on the couch, watching appreciatively as Leo sheds the rest of his clothes, pausing only to tilt his head and skewer Chris with one of his patented raised-eyebrow-I-don’t-quite-trust–you looks. 

“I know that tone, what are you planning?”

Chris leans back and links his hands behind his head, grinning as he offers, “Hmm…I’m thinking maybe Christmas should come early for Jim.”

The other eyebrow goes up and McCoy manages to look simultaneously suspicious and very, very interested. “What? You going to gift wrap me, put a bow around my dick and leave me in his quarters?”

“Hell no, I was thinking more on the lines of leaving you tied up in _my_ quarters and inviting him to dinner. If we’re going to do this, I want to at least get to watch.” And he does, want to watch, that is. While Chris is very, very sure that Jim is interested in McCoy, he’s less sure whether that’s all Jim wants, or whether he’s open – even in an informal and intermittent way – to being included in their already slightly unconventional, if widely accepted, three-way relationship with the Surgeon-General. 

“You’re serious!”

“Serious as a fucking heart attack, Leo.” Chris grins as he picks up his padd and gestures in the direction of the head. “Go shower, I’m going to finish up this report and then I want your undivided attention for the rest of the evening.”

oOooOo

It takes an hour, a very fine steak au poivre – from the mess rather than the replicator – and a bottle of syrah, brought all the way from Earth, to loosen Jim Kirk’s tongue. But when he’s finally talking, spilling out the frustration and confusion of a life where his only sexual outlets are casual encounters whenever he makes planet-fall, Chris relaxes for the first time in twenty-four hours. As confident as he had been about the roots of Jim’s reckless behavior the night before, it’s reassuring have his suspicions confirmed as he sits and listens to Jim talk through the unexpected revelation that endless one-night stands and countless interchangeable partners is not really what he wants. 

It’s not hard to see why sex comes so easily to Jim, sprawled out across half the sofa in Chris’s VIP suite, he’s a long, lithe, leanly-muscled example of the best Starfleet has to offer, and even Chris has never been entirely immune to his charms. Jim had propositioned him at least half a dozen times while he’d been at the Academy and, on one of those occasions – when neither of them had been entirely sober – Chris had almost succumbed, had almost let himself give in to the desire to lose himself in all that gorgeous youth and brilliance. 

But he hadn’t.

It had taken all of his not inconsiderable self-control to point Jim in the direction of his dorm and send him on his way and, with Phil off-planet, Chris had finished the evening in the shower, wanking to the thought of all the very inventive ways he could silence Jim Kirk’s entirely too-smart mouth. 

The propositions had ended with the Narada and command and the hellish reality of a post-Vulcan universe and Chris had honestly been too preoccupied to wonder why. It’s all crystal clear now and just a little painful to watch as the young captain struggles with his misconceptions about the chain-of-command regulations and what they mean for any possible relationships with his crew. 

“Jim.” Long legs stretched out in front of him, Chris rolls the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as he watches Jim shift uncomfortably on the couch opposite. “Did Nogura give you the “don’t fuck around” talk?”

Jim looks away for a moment, pulling his legs up onto the seat and wrapping his arms around them in a classic defensive body language pose. “Yeah.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he gives every new captain under the age of forty that talk. He gave me that talk more than twenty years ago when I took command of the Arethusa.”

Uncurling a little, Jim tilts his head and frowns. “Did you listen?”

“Yeah, well…sorta.” Chris can’t quite help grinning as he admits. “At least I really tried not to fuck anyone that would lead to a major diplomatic incident.” And that makes Jim laugh in return. 

“Yeah, he was pretty adamant about that part.” The laughter fades from his eyes as he looks away and Chris feels a twist of sympathy as Jim goes on, his voice soft and slightly truculent. “And the part about no-one on the Enterprise.” 

Stretching out a little further, legs crossed at the ankles as he slumps in the chair Chris shakes his head, amused and frustrated and fond all at once. “Jim, Heihachiro is brilliant at military strategy, and abso-fucking-lutely useless at human resource management.” He can tell that just the use of Nogura’s first name, the familiarity that it implies, has caught Jim’s interest and he waits until the blond head comes up again, skeptical curiosity in those dark blue eyes, before he carries on. “He omitted to mention that Starfleet regulation 68/3 on sexual relations within a chain of command, has a specific sub-clause that exempts Captains, CMOs and XOs.” 

Now he really has Jim’s interest and Chris grins as he goes on. “You are permitted to form intimate relations with one, or the other, of the two people who can stand you down. That is, who aren’t technically, entirely within your chain of command.” He holds up one finger to forestall Jim jumping into the conversation before he’s finished. “Now, there’s an even more obscure sub-clause that forbids threesomes – at least one of you has to be thinking clearly enough to stand down the other two if necessary – we don’t want a repeat of the Shenzhen incident.” Chris pauses, as if he’s going to continue and explain, but then thinks better of that idea – as good a story as it is, now is not the time and Jim will just have to wait if he wants an explanation. 

The silence stretches for a long few moments as Jim stares at Chris, clearly trying to sort through the implications of what he’s just said – not just the general principle of the thing – but the very real possibilities of what it means for _him_. True to form his first response is glib.

“Well, no fear of that, I think Nyota would castrate me if I said I wanted to fuck Spock.” Still, it’s patently obvious that Jim Kirk is prevaricating, the hesitation in his eyes warring with his obvious interest in pursuing the _other_ possibility. 

Chris just waits, savouring the last of the syrah and watching as Jim gathers his courage to admit what he wants. There’s no mystery why the young captain is hesitating, as balls-to-the-wall reckless as Jim Kirk might be, it still takes a serious dose of courage to tell your commanding officer – and Chris is well aware that he’s a lot more than that to Jim – that you want to fuck his boyfriend. 

“So, what you’re telling me is that I can fuck my CMO? And you’re okay with that? Fuck, you’re saying that _Bones_ is okay with that?”

There’s an implication in there somewhere that Leo might just be too traditional for such an arrangement and it almost makes Chris laugh, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jim – think about it. He’s already in a relationship with Phil and I, adding you into mix is only going to make his life easier.”

He gets a raised eyebrow in response and Chris shakes his head as he explains. “You get to let off steam with someone you trust – which might just settle you down a little so you stop giving Leo heart-failure – and he gets regular sex when he’s away from us. Win-win.”

Another pause and then Jim asks, a hesitant stutter in his voice. “You’re really not fucking with me – this is something Bones wants? It’s something _you_ want?” Chris finds it interesting, if unsurprising, that at no time during the conversation has Jim even questioned whether it’s something _he_ wants and he’s laughing slightly as he answers.

“Jim, the only fucking that’s in question here is the kind that ends up with everyone falling asleep in a shattered heap at the end of the night.”

Jim shifts in the chair, clearly a little uncomfortable as he tries to subtly adjust the front of his off-duty jeans and his eyes are bright with lust and anticipation but still he hesitates just a fraction longer and Chris is pretty sure he knows why.

For all Jim’s apparent inability to commit, Chris is well aware that he and Bones have a long-standing co-dependent relationship that veers all the way from highly dysfunctional to professionally and personally crucial, all depending on the circumstances. He is perhaps, Chris thinks, wondering what will happen if this turns out not to be just about sex, but they can cross that bridge when – and if – they come to it. 

“Stop over thinking this. It is what it is, and it’s _us_ , whatever happens, we can deal with it.” 

There’s a sudden tension in the air as Jim holds his gaze, and Chris can’t help but notice the flush creeping up beyond the round collar of Jim’s black regulation t-shirt and the way his eyes get wide, pupils reacting to the overtly sexual charge that has now infused the air. Intrigued Chris watches Jim carefully for a moment, noting all the signs of heightened arousal and he only just manages to not grin at the possibilities. It’s not surprising that Jim is apparently interested in more than just Bones – it’s highly unlikely that all of those Academy-era propositions were solely for the purpose of winding him up – and that could make things a lot easier for all of them, starting tonight. 

He manages to get out of the chair with only the slightest hesitation and as he leans over Jim and slides one hand around the smooth curve of his neck, thumb brushing gently along the sandpaper line of his jaw, Chris watches, captivated as this oh-so-much-younger captain leans up and into the impending kiss. He’s not in the least surprised that James T Kirk has technique to spare, yielding for a moment to let Chris take control and then fighting back until they’re trading long, soft, plundering kisses that work miracles on Chris’s still slightly slower than average response rates. 

They’re both breathless when Jim finally pulls back, and Chris has a moment of heart-stopping anxiety as Jim frowns and grips Chris’s off-duty Henley in a tight fist. 

“He’s really okay with this?”

Anxiety dissipated Chris grins and tilts his head slightly towards the door to the sleeping section of his quarters. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Jim flushes again, and Chris can’t help but lean in to kiss the warm damp skin of Jim’s throat, smiling as he feels the thrum of a too-rapid pulse beat under his lips. 

“He’s in there waiting?”

“Waiting’s probably too strong a term. I’m sure he’s been entertaining himself in the hope that I was going to be able to talk you into this.” 

oOooOo

 

“Fuck, Bones.” Jim’s voice is an awed whisper as he steps through into the bedroom and Chris can’t argue with the tone. McCoy is stretched out on the mattress, legs crossed at the ankles and his hands clasped behind his head and the remarkable thing is the utter confidence he’s radiating despite being the only naked one in the room. He grins up at them and Chris can see the relief in Jim, the way his shoulders relax, his whole body unwinding as he comes to a halt at the side of the bed and sits on the edge of the mattress, resting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

Chris watches with deep satisfaction as Jim follows Leo’s gaze down to where his cock is curving up, hard and dark and slick-shined with lube “Thought you’d never get here, darlin’.”

For a moment Jim looks back at Chris, as if he’s asking permission to continue and Chris just raises one eyebrow and grins. “Hey, at my age I’m only good for one round, I’m planning to sit this one out and watch the two of you fuck yourselves to a standstill.” He settles himself in the room’s one comfortable chair and leans down to unfasten his boots, intending to relax for a while and enjoy the slow seductive burn of watching these two utterly beautiful young men work each other to sweat-soaked, exhaustion. 

There’s a long moment of hesitation as Jim slides his fingers almost reverently over the skin of Bones’ shoulder, as if he can’t quite believe he’s getting to do this and Leo reaches for him, sliding a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a long, soft, deeply carnal kiss. The sound Jim lets out, a shivering little whimper at the back of his throat, makes Chris shudder, his blood suddenly spiraling south as he watches this first kiss between two men who he knows have wanted each other for a long, long time, perhaps since that first fatal shuttle ride from Iowa.

For just a second he wonders if he should leave them to it, but before he can move McCoy has broken the kiss and skewers him with a look.

“Don’t you go anywhere, darlin’.” Leo grins over the top of Jim’s head, which is buried in the curve between shoulder and neck and judging by the occasional shudder that runs through McCoy’s frame, Chris thinks Jim is doing something very inventive with his mouth. “I’ve been real patient, waiting here for you two all evening. I want payback from both y’all.” 

Relaxing back into the chair Chris laughs quietly at the easy impertinent, confidence in McCoy’s tone and with a tilt of his head he acquiesces. “Not going anywhere, Leo. Just going to watch for a while, then you can have me anyway you want me.”

McCoy is carding his fingers through Jim’s thick dark blond hair, obviously encouraging him to shift his attention lower and Chris watches, fascinated as Jim lays a trail of teasing nips and kisses down the midline of McCoy’s chest that make him catch his breath as he fires back, “Think by the time he’s done with me, all I’ll be fit to do is lie here and let you fuck me into the mattress.”

“I can do that.” The sudden wash of lust at that thought leaves Chris almost speechless and his jeans are suddenly a little too tight as he presses the heel of his hand against the taut-stretched denim to make himself a little more comfortable. A moment later he gives in to the inevitable and unfastens four of the five fly buttons as Leo’s head goes back, a low moan rolling out from deep in his chest as Jim obviously reaches his goal and expertly deep-throats McCoy’s not inconsiderable length. 

There are few things Chris enjoys more than sitting back and immersing himself in the sight and sound and smell of other people having sex – it’s one of the great joys of being in a threesome – and he wraps one hand lazily around his cock, not quite fully hard but not far from it, and strokes himself slowly as Jim sucks his way up and down McCoy’s cock. 

Leo is clearly in heaven, head arched back, groaning and whispering filthy half-sentences as he curls his fingers tight in Jim’s hair, his hips hitching up in an irregular stutter until Jim wraps a strong forearm across Leo’s belly and holds him in place. And then Jim is still, clearly doing something with his tongue that’s making Leo shudder and the sight of it makes Chris shiver, pierced with sharp, sweet shocks of need. 

Apparently smart enough to know that none of them want this to end prematurely, Jim pulls back after a moment, leaving McCoy arching up off the bed in a silent plea for more and Chris strokes a little faster, a little tighter, at the sight of Leo’s cock, spit-slick and dark, dark red as it twitches eagerly above the flat curve of his stomach. Jim makes it out of his clothes in no time flat, and he’s possibly the most beautiful thing Chris has ever seen when he finally stretches out over Leo; braced on his hands and knees, the long curve of his back and ass smooth and honey-gold in the subdued light of the cabin. 

“What d’you want, Jim?” Leo reaches up with one hand and tangles his fingers in Jim’s hair, and Chris can see the gentle way he’s stroking through the thick strands as Jim hesitates for a moment before he says, his voice a curious mix of cocky and insecure. “I want to fuck you, can I? Is that okay?”

“I’d like that just fine, Jim, just fine.”

They come fused together, McCoy’s long legs spread wide on the bed, his hands fisted in the sheets as Jim buries his face in the nape of his neck and the air is suddenly thick with the sound and smell of orgasm. It’s only years of diligently exercised self-control that make it possible for Chris to not come at the sight, watching the muscles of Jim’s ass flex as the climax rips through him, knowing that he’s coming buried deep inside Leo, and that Leo in turn is shuddering out his own orgasm onto the sheets. 

By the time the pair on the bed have recovered enough for coherence, Chris is aching and he has just enough patience left to tilt his head and ask, as McCoy looks across at him and grins, “Your choice, what do you want?”

McCoy reaches back and pats Jim on the flank. “Shift over, darlin’. ‘less you want him to fuck you instead?”

There’s a long moment of silence while the three of them look at each other, and it’s clear that for all his post-orgasmic lethargy Jim is thinking through the implications of whom Chris should fuck, and what that will mean for the three of them. He takes a breath, holds Chris’s gaze and grins, before he rolls onto his back and spreads his legs in a display of easy, wanton sexuality.

“Come on then, old man – I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

oOooOo

Even in the VIP quarters the bunks on the Enterprise aren’t really big enough to be shared by three full grown men, but that doesn’t stop them from all falling asleep in a tangled pile and when Chris wakes a few hours later, one arm numb from being trapped underneath Leo for a couple of hours, it takes him a few minutes to extricate himself without waking the other two. 

They look good together, Leo curled protectively around Jim, their legs entwined, Jim’s breathing slightly muffled against his CMO’s shoulder and Chris has to confess that this was a job well-done on his part. He and Phil have always worried just a little about McCoy, the odd-one out in their triad, the one who worked away and had to live constantly with the knowledge that Chris and Phil were together on Earth while he lived out his five-year deep-space commitment. Now, he and Jim can stop tormenting each other, and everyone else around them, with the worst unresolved sexual tension Chris has ever seen outside of a day-time soap-vid and can turn their attention to getting the Enterprise through her five year mission with as minimal a casualty rate as possible. 

Still, he pauses for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bunk, leaning over to run his fingers gently through McCoy’s thick, untidy dark hair, suddenly struck with the uncomfortable knowledge that he’ll be leaving them in a few days. Dropped off at Starbase 211 to sort out the tactical cluster-fuck that was the Federation’s most recent encounter with the Cardassians, he’ll be in-country for at least a couple of weeks before he gets shuttled back to Earth on whatever ship is available. It certainly won’t be the Enterprise, she’s off to the Klingon Border to patrol a long arc between the Azure Nebula and the Hromi Cluster, and given the current tensions between all the major powers in the Quadrant, a rotation home to Earth isn’t likely anytime soon. And for all that he’ll be going home to Phil, he – they both – miss Leo terribly when he’s in the black. 

He wonders too, just how profoundly the addition of Jim into the mix is going to change things. With luck, Jim will slide comfortably into place as a fourth in their slightly irregular alliance, and Chris grins at that thought, trailing his fingers over Jim’s bare shoulder, as he imagines getting to watch Phil demonstrate his fifty years of experience on Jim’s unsuspecting body. There had been a few hints this evening that Jim had been surprised that anyone over fifty had the energy and enthusiasm for sex that Chris had demonstrated – at sixty-five Phil’s going to blow his mind, among other things. 

Still, he can’t help but be a little wistful at the thought of what lies ahead for these two beautiful, brilliant young men. It’s not that Chris’s career is over, by any stretch, but injury-impelled promotion has irrevocably changed the trajectory of his life, mostly confined now to Earth and a desk and going home to the same house every night. The adventure of starship command replaced with the wider responsibilities and darker realities of quadrant-wide strategy and ‘Fleet level intrigue. He strokes his fingers one last time over Jim’s shoulder and then down across Leo’s flank before he tugs the covers up from the bottom of the bunk and drapes them over the twined bodies, his voice barely audible as he whispers a few lines from Sarah William’s _Old Astronomer to his Pupil_

 

_Though my soul may set in darkness_  
It will rise in perfect light.  
I have loved the stars too fondly  
To be fearful of the night. 

_Fin_


End file.
